Page 92 of Airborne
“Anything someone could use?”
“I downloaded important files onto a flash drive before I left. Had notes, H9N15 observations, and what little I’d learned.”
“Where is the flash drive?”
“In the Whole Foods coffee bean jar.”
Javier and Tobias joined him in his bedroom. “Anything on it to use against you or aid the bad guy?”
“Everything we’ve discussed, including the IP address traced to Spain.” Chad checked the glass container in the kitchen holding the coffee beans. It lay in pieces on the floor minus the flash drive.
“Looks like they found what they were looking for,” Javier said.
How much worse could things get?
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAD AND ANDY APPROACHEDthe Alvinson home, a two-story brick traditional. Heather favored this style. Thoughts of her never left him no matter how hard he attempted to shove them away. He rang the doorbell. An FBI team had swept his ransacked apartment last night, and he’d spent the remainder of the hours in a hotel. The thieves had taken his laptop and flash drive—nothing else. They left the coffee beans amid the broken glass. The apartment management estimated three to four days before the renovation and repairs were completed.
He turned to Andy. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to find out if Trey is linked to the virus and what he and Powell researched together. While it’s probably nothing, I’m tired of taking a backseat to whatever is going on.”
“I’m angry his death might not have been an accident. Trey swam on the swim team in high school and college. You saw him, slim, buff.”
“Whoa. Hadn’t expected that. Do you want me to handle this?”
Andy shook his head. “I was friends with Trey for too many years to let this go. We have different reasons for probing this.”
A white-haired woman answered, and Andy introduced Chad. Sadness hung over Mrs. Alvinson like a water-soaked umbrella. She invited them inside to a living area, where a tall, balding man introduced himself as Trey’s father.
“Please, have a seat. Andy, Dr. Lawrence.” Mr. Alvinson pointed to two chairs. “We know who you are and the accusations against you. Because of Andy’s friendship with Trey, we’ve agreed to this meeting. But we have no idea why you want to talk to us.” The Alvinsons squeezed together on the sofa. He wrapped his arms around his wife’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry about your son’s unfortunate accident,” Chad said. “Did he have health issues?”
“No, sir. Since our son’s death, my wife and I have asked ourselves why his untimely passing. It’s impossible to move on with our lives with only memories to comfort us.”
Chad allowed a moment of reverent silence. “Trey impressed us with his dedication to medical research.” He stared into the man’s clouded eyes. “We’d looked forward to his input at Lawrence Labs.”
Mrs. Alvinson covered her mouth, then spoke. “He had dreams to help the world.”
“Andy tells me he was conducting work at a private lab with a goal of developing a vaccine for dengue fever.”
She nodded. “He’d visited a poor area in Ethiopia and witnessed those stricken with diseases, mainly dengue fever. From then on, his heart was bent on a cure. Thomas Powell had funded his medical school and learned of his interest. He contacted someone to invest in a private lab so Trey could continue. I’m sure he said a woman who lived overseas, but I never heard her name. Why the need for an investor when Powell had plenty of money?” Shedrew in a sharp breath. “Trey told us he’d discovered something important. And he’d tell us after he ran more tests.”
“Did he keep notes or a computer file?”
Mr. Alvinson gripped his fist. “Powell has possession of those. He wanted to find another medical researcher to continue the work.” His features set up like concrete. “He’d funded Trey’s lab and claimed everything there belonged to him.”
“But you wanted them as a reminder of your son’s hard work.” Chad voiced the anguish written on the couple’s faces.
“My wife and I expressed a desire for Baylor College of Medicine to have his documentation. Didn’t do any good. Powell was insistent, a hard man to deal with. Dr. Lawrence, how would our son’s information help you?”
“Andy and I are searching for answers to help those stricken by a virus called H9N15, the one I’m accused of developing.”
“No proof or you’d be behind bars,” Mr. Alvinson said. “From the looks of your bruises, the trip to New York wasn’t the best idea.”
“True.” Chad offered a grim smile. “Are you aware one of the people quarantined in New York is Thomas Powell?”
“Yes. Despise the man, but I don’t want him dead.”
